


Catcher's Interference

by draco_illius_noctis



Series: Caught Looking World [11]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Background Relationships, Justice Positive, Justice deserves his own series, M/M, Mental Anguish, Past Relationship(s), because I love him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2018-12-06 19:58:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11607876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draco_illius_noctis/pseuds/draco_illius_noctis
Summary: Collection of short works featuring Justice from Caught Looking. Details will be listed before each chapter.This is my Idris Elba.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set during chapter 18 of the main fic, this is when Justice goes to Anders' apartment with Garrett's gift and talks some sense into him. 
> 
> Angsty, mentions of Karl...half of these tags apply to Anders and not Justice.

Loud banging resonated around the apartment, jolting Anders awake. He blinked groggily, letting out a low groan as he tried to get a grip on his surroundings. The curtains were all pulled tight, barely letting in a sliver of light and allowing no indication of the time.  

He groaned again as he rolled over in bed and pulled the blankets tighter around him. His head was throbbing, even without the noise, and the last thing he felt like doing was getting up to find the cause of it.

Maybe he shouldn’t have had so much to drink last night.

When it still hadn’t stopped after another five minutes, however, he forced himself to his feet and trudged to the door in just his boxers. Whoever was there was going to have to deal with his state of undress.

“Anders, I know you are home,” came the voice from the other side. “I will stay here and make your neighbors hate me.”

“Goddamn, just _stop_ ,” Anders grumbled, opening the door. He didn’t wait for Justice to enter, flopping down on the couch and stretching out until he was comfortable.

“What are you doing?”

Anders closed his eyes, not bothering to hide his yawn.

“I _was_ sleeping. Until someone decided to be an ass and wake up the whole building.”

“Anders, it is three o’clock in the afternoon.”

“What?” Anders frowned, sitting up on one elbow. “No, it’s not.”

Justice shifted the box in his hands, fishing his phone out of his pocket and showing him the screen, which now read 3:04 p.m.

“What the fuck,” Anders mumbled, lying back down.

“I’ll ask you again,” Justice said. “What are you doing?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Anders asked, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Cause you’re pretty much looking at it.”

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

“It’s probably dead,” Anders yawned again. “Who knows.”

“Anders…” Justice sighed.

“ _Justice_ ,” Anders mocked, still not moving.

“You have a lot of people worried about you,” the other man continued, nonplussed. “And a team that needs you.”

“They’ll be fine,” Anders said, waving his words away. “I doubt anyone but you really cares, anyway.”

Justice was silent long enough that Anders peeked an eye open to look at his friend. Only years of training helped him decipher the otherwise unreadable expression, a mixture of annoyance, disbelief, and sadness written on his face.

“How can you _say_ that?” Justice growled, voice quiet. He nearly slammed the cardboard box down on the table, seemingly remembering at the last moment what he had in his hands.

“Our teammates have asked me nearly every day how you are doing,” he continued, walking over so he was directly in Anders’ line of sight. “People are worried. And I have nothing to tell them because _I don’t know_.”

When that got no response, he continued.

“And what about your boyfriend? Do you even know why I’m here?”

Anders’ eyes popped open at that, sitting up and staring at Justice in horror.

“What?” he choked out, voice hoarse. “Nothing happened to Garrett, did it?”

“No,” Justice sighed, relaxing a bit. “But he is a mess, Anders. He thinks this is his fault.”

Anders closed his eyes again, shaking his head slightly.

“I don’t have a boyfriend anymore.”

“Are you going to tell _him_ that?” Justice snapped. “Are you going to tell him _anything_? Do you not see that your actions are affecting others? Or are you so selfish you think the entire world revolves around you?”

“Doesn’t it?” Anders grinned. He sobered after a minute, letting out a deep breath. “He’ll be fine. He just…he needs some time. He’ll realize I wasn’t worth it.”

“Maybe he should be the one to decide that.”

Anders shrugged. “I’m sure he knows it, in the back of his mind. He’s upset now, but he’ll understand.”

“Anders,” Justice sighed. “ _You_ are the one who needs to understand--”

“ _I can’t be what he needs_ ,” Anders cried, angry, heaving breaths overtaking him. He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down.

“Why would you make me go through that again?”

“Because it _won’t_ be like that again,” Justice argued through gritted teeth. “Garrett is different, he is _right_ for you. You just need to talk to him, tell him—“

“I can’t tell him anything,” Anders interrupted. “It’s better to make a clean break. You’re wasting your breath…this isn’t going to happen.”

Justice let out a growl of frustration, pacing a few steps away before wheeling on the man.

 _“He is not Karl._ ”

Anders flinched as if struck, sucking in a hitched breath as he looked down at the floor. Justice exhaled, rubbing his temples before walking over to kneel in front of his best friend, taking him gently by the shoulders.

“I apologize,” he murmured. “I should not have been so blunt; you know I cared for Karl deeply. But Anders…”

“I’m going to hurt him,” Anders whispered, still not looking up as the words tumbled out of his mouth. “Kristoff, I…I can’t. He’s too good for me. I’m going to make the same mistakes again, I know it. I can't...I can’t, I’m not enough.”

“ _You are_ ,” Justice insisted, giving him a small shake. “You are more than enough. You need help, Anders. Let us help you.”

Anders didn’t reply, covering his face with his hands as he struggled to get himself under control. Justice gave him a second before pulling him closer, into his embrace. Anders went willingly, body shaking with silent sobs as Justice clutched him tighter.

“I miss him so much,” Anders said, voice muffled against the catcher’s shirt. Justice remained silent, not asking which man he meant.

Eventually, Anders pulled away, wiping his eyes yet refusing to meet Justice’s gaze. The other man took the opportunity to reach for the forgotten box, placing it on the couch in front of them. Anders took a few moments to get himself together, finally looking at it in curiosity.

“I also came here to bring you this,” Justice said with a smile. “I was told you would understand what it means.”

Anders furrowed his brow, pulling the box over and opening the lid. Inside was a generous pile of croissants and brownies, the latter covered with Garrett’s signature peanut butter frosting. Anders’ face fell almost immediately before he smiled, choking back another sob.

“God damn him,” he murmured, half-laughing through his tears.

“I will not pretend to know what this means.”

“It’s a long story,” Anders sniffed, shaking his head. “Want one?”

“No, thank you,” Justice smirked. “His sister provided me with my own.”

“Oh?” Anders asked, eyebrows raised.

“She was very excited. It was…cute.”

Anders’ eyebrows nearly vanished into his hair as he stared at the other man. Justice just rolled his eyes.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he said, although a faint smile tugged at his lips.

They sat in silence for a few moments as Justice checked the time on his phone and Anders poked around the contents of the box. The catcher finally sighed, looking back at Anders somberly.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Anders nodded, tearing off the corner of a croissant and stuffing it in his mouth. His eyes remained downcast as he chewed, not bothering to elaborate.

“I do not like leaving you like this,” Justice said hesitantly, standing. “But I will be late if I do not leave now.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Anders replied, giving him a small smile as he stood as well. The pair walked to the front door, both lingering for a moment.

“I will call you tonight,” Justice promised. “And please, at least text Garrett and let him know you are alright. Or I will be forced to do it on your behalf.”

He looked Anders in the eye with a gaze that withered even the toughest of ballplayers, although there was a small hint of a smile playing on his lips. Anders nodded before pulling the other man into a tight embrace.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For everything.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justice finds out he's been traded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place at the end of ch. 7 of Caught Looking

The newswire found out before he did.

“Kristoff, can I talk to you for a second?”

He looked over to see the Rebels’ manager standing at his side as the team returned to the locker room, face set into a neutral expression as he gestured toward his office. Kristoff nodded wordlessly, following close behind.

The manager gestured at the seat on the other side of his desk as he sat, steepling his fingers under his chin for a moment. He looked nervous, which only made Kristoff’s stomach turn, wondering what was causing the expression.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush,” the manager said a second later. “You’re being traded.”

Shocked, he stared at the man, trying to grasp the meaning behind the words. The trade deadline was months away. He was putting together another solid season. While he knew he was eligible for a trade – and a likely candidate, being in the last year of his contract – he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

“It’s nothing personal,” the manager said quickly, as if reading his thoughts. “The timing just happened to be right. You’ve always been an instrumental part of this team, and we’re very sorry to see you—“

Kristoff held up his hand, silencing the man from spewing more of his nauseating platitudes.

“I do not need or want your condolences,” he said calmly, watching the man’s eyes flicker away in annoyance for a split second. “And the details are irrelevant at this point. Where am I going?”

His tone could be mistaken for cold and uncaring by those that didn’t know him, and, honestly, he wasn’t sure the man across from him knew him well enough to realize that. Even after years working together. That was also irrelevant, he thought.

The manager cleared his throat, trying to muster the nerve to look Kristoff in the eyes as a faint smile appeared on his face.

“Kirkwall.”

Kristoff blinked, expression unchanging as he weighed the tone of the man’s voice with the likelihood that he would be joking.

“Kirkwall?” He inclined his head, crossing his arms as he studied the man through squinted eyes. “How did you manage that?”

“We raided their farm system.” The other man shrugged casually, as if it was something that happened all the time. “You for cash and three of their prospects.”

Kristoff nodded, humming in acknowledgment. The manager kept talking, going into more details about the trade, but Kristoff tuned him out.

If he was honest with himself, he hadn’t realized the Champions were in need of a catcher, nor that they would entertain such a large trade this early in the season. Even in his wildest dreams, he hadn’t expected to follow Anders, and yet…

Excitement was starting to bubble under the surface, but he fought it down.

“When do I leave?” he asked, the manager stopping mid-sentence to gape at the interruption.

“Tomorrow.” The man studied him for a moment before huffing out an incredulous laugh. “Is that all you have to say?”

Kristoff paused, trying to think of the right words.

“It has been a pleasure to play here,” he finally replied, only slightly stretching the truth. He had easily as many painful memories of his time in Calenhad as he had pleasant ones. Thoughts of Aura, Karl, and Anders all surfaced at once, clouding his mind. But now it seemed that at least one of those could possibly have a happy ending.

“I thank you, I have enjoyed working with you, as well,” he continued, reaching out to shake the man’s hand as they both stood. “I will miss it.”

The manager grimaced, not quite believing him, but Kristoff didn’t care. He had teammates to say goodbye to, a locker to clean out, and one very important phone call to make.

All eyes turned to him when he entered the locker room and the conversations dulled. A few of the men openly stared, watching his expression closely, while most of the others turned back to what they were doing.

He made his way over to his locker, the full reality of the situation finally hitting him. No one had approached him, although he could tell a few wanted to. He slowly began packing the few personal items he kept in the space, leaving the majority of the equipment and his uniforms to be packed up and sent over ahead of him tomorrow.

“It’s all over the news.” A voice came from his right, and Kristoff turned to see Carroll standing next to him, waving his phone in front of his face. He grinned when Kristoff looked. “Think you can take me with you?”

“I do not believe that is up to me,” Kristoff replied, fighting to keep his expression neutral as he turned back to his things. He hadn’t ever really hidden the fact that he didn’t care much for Carroll.

“My notifications blew up as soon as we walked in here,” the other man said, seemingly oblivious to Kristoff’s lack of interest in their conversation. He was standing there half dressed, tapping away at the screen and barely paying attention.

“Did you have any idea?” he continued. “This has got to be a dream come true for you, getting to be with _y_ our _Anders_ again.”

Kristoff bristled, resisting the urge to grab the man’s phone and throw it across the room. Carroll was no friend of Anders’ – and thereby no friend of _his_ – and he knew a reaction was exactly what the man was after. Surely so he could turn around and report his findings to Gregoir and Cullen and the three of them could gloat as they wallowed in last place. They had made it no secret they were happy to see Anders leave after the season ended, and the news that he was leaving now, as well, was most likely icing on the cake.

“I have enjoyed my time here,” he said instead. “But it seems as if it is time to move on.”

He picked up his bag, finished with his packing, and turned to face his now-former teammate, fixing him with a cool stare.

“I believe it is time for all of _you_ to move on as well.”

He turned, facing the rest of the room and cleared his throat.

“I am sure you have all heard the news,” he began voice booming across the room as the others went silent. “It was as much of a surprise to me as it was to you. I have played my entire career in Calenhad, and I will miss what I have called home for the last decade. And I will miss all of you. It has been a pleasure playing and working with you all, and I wish you nothing but the best. Most of you have my number, so do not hesitate if you need anything. And…I suppose I will see you all the next time you play Kirkwall.”

He nodded his head, allowing a generous smile for his generous words as the group erupted into cheers, the men he was on friendlier terms with coming over to pat him on the back, give him hugs, and wish him well. He could hear the chant begin on the far side of the room, engrossed as he was with those closest to him, but it was soon picked up by the entire group.

“Justice. Justice! _Justice! Justice!_ ”

He actually grinned then, shaking his head before waving one last time as the men began to cheer again. A few ran up to him as he turned to leave, asking if he wanted to go out for a drink to celebrate before he left. He shook his head no, pleading tiredness and the need to wake up early for his trip.

The ride home was quick, and as soon as he was in the privacy of his home he grabbed his phone, scrolling through his own lengthy list of notifications. He half expected to see one from the man he was looking for, and couldn’t help the slight disappointment he felt when he didn’t. A couple quick taps later, however, showed him that the Champions were on a road trip. Perhaps Anders was just busy.

His first phone call went unanswered. He didn’t leave a message, opting to send a follow-up text instead.

 **Kristoff** : _Anders. Perhaps you already know, but please give me a call when you have a moment_.

He pocketed his phone and went about the apartment, sighing at the work ahead of him. While he didn’t own a lot, he had made this seasonal home _his_ , and it was more than he would be able to pack in one evening. He would have to do what he could and save the rest for a free day when he could return. Perhaps convince Anders to come help him.

About an hour later he heard his phone ringing in his back pocket, snapping him out of the mental list of tasks he was going through as he packed.

“What’s going on?” Anders demanded as soon as he answered the phone. He was breathless with worry.

“Nothing bad, I assure you,” Kristoff chuckled.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Anders sighed. “We just got our asses handed to us and I had to sit through the longest meeting ever and I’ve been trying to get ahold of…this guy…and he’s not answering, and then I saw _your_ message and was just like, shit.”

Kristoff grinned at the phone, making a mental note to ask about “this guy” when the time was more convenient.

“So you do not know?”

“Don’t know _what_?”

“I am afraid you are stuck with me once again.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone, long enough that Kristoff checked to make sure the call had not been dropped.

“You’re fucking with me, right?” Anders said a few seconds later.

“I am not,” he assured him. He could hear the TV being clicked on in the background as Anders went silent again, most likely switching to the sports station to see if he was telling the truth. A loud gasp a minute later confirmed it.

“ _Holy fucking shit!”_ Anders cried, laughing. “Justice is coming to Kirkwall!”

“It would appear so,” Kristoff replied, happy at his friend’s reaction.

“I don’t even know what to say!” Anders continued. “I just…holy _fuck_ , Kristoff.”

“I was just as surprised as you were,” he said. “I am looking forward to working with you again.”

“Yeah, I’d fucking say!” Anders burst out laughing again. “You know I’m pitching tomorrow, right? I’m going to make sure you’re the one catching me.”

“That is fine with me,” Kristoff agreed. “Although I believe your manager will most likely have something to say about the matter.”

“Whatever,” Anders scoffed. “He’ll do it if I tell him. Are you kidding me? You _know_ this is going to be all anyone’s talking about tomorrow.”

“True enough,” he chuckled.

“You, uh…probably have to get going, huh?”

“Are you trying to rush me off the phone, Anders?” he asked with a sly smile that he _knew_ Anders would pick up through his tone.

“What? No! I was just uh…I’m expecting a text, but I can still text you, too. It’s no big deal, really. I’m just kinda tired.”

“A text from whom?”

“Um…”

Kristoff smiled, humming in amusement.

“Would it be from ‘this guy’ you mentioned earlier?”

“Maybe…”

“I will let you go,” he chuckled. “But I expect to hear all about him tomorrow.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy guys. So, those of you reading this probably follow me on tumblr and know what's been going on with me lately re: my dog and subsequent crippling depression. Even though I haven't gotten much writing done in the last month, luckily I had written some stuff over the summer and socked it away for a rainy day. This is pretty much as rainy day as it's gonna get, so even though I know it's not one of the main fics people are looking for from me, it's something! I'm starting to pull myself out of this hole, so hopefully I'll get back into the swing of things soon. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did Justice get invited to Garrett and Anders' reunion dinner? He's just trying to help. 
> 
> Set during ch. 20 of Caught Looking
> 
> (Remember this story takes place in 2015)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special dedication to 2018's Sexiest Man of the Year, Jus-- Idris Elba. Well deserved ;)

Never let it be said that Kristoff wasn’t observant.

Anders was nervous, that much was obvious. Nervous and…impatient? The entire ride to the airport he was glued to his phone, both legs bouncing without rhythm as if he was trying to get rid of excess energy.

It could only mean one thing: the Hawke boy.

 _Garrett_ , he reminded himself. _You’ve met him. His name is Garrett. Anders wouldn’t appreciate him being referred to by his surname_. Kristoff made a note to do it the next time they spoke.

He decided to wait until they’re on the plane before broaching the subject. The luxury of a chartered flight – one of the many luxuries – was the privacy it afforded them. While he was generally content to sit quietly and read or listen to music on most of the flights, Anders wavered between brooding alone in the back or sitting right in the midst of the loudest group of players. It all depended on his mood.

This afternoon was somewhere in the middle. While Anders didn’t appear to be out of sorts, he also didn’t seem to be in the mood to socialize. He took his seat in the back and Kristoff followed. Although he rarely said anything, Kristoff knew that when Anders was like this, having the other man by his side provided some sort of relief. Almost a barrier between him and the rest of the world.

Anders said nothing as they both sat and strapped in, stowing their bags dutifully under the seats in front of them. It wasn’t until they were in the air that Kristoff finally turned to his friend.

“What is troubling you?”

Anders jumped slightly at the words, eyes shooting to his phone before he plastered a smile on his face and looked over at him.

“Nothing, why?”

Kristoff raised an eyebrow but said nothing. It only took Anders a couple of seconds to cave, sighing as he glanced at the phone in his hand once more.

“I invited Garrett over for dinner.”

“Why is that a problem?” Kristoff prompted. He turned more to face the other man, trying to gauge his reaction.

“I…he’s never been to my apartment before.” Anders looked almost guilty when he said it, and Kristoff imagined he felt like he was. He was still wrestling with so many demons, chasing so many simple moments and events that had evaded him in the past. Or that he had pushed out of his memory.

“I would think this should be a happy occasion, then,” Kristoff replied, smiling.

“It is,” Anders said quickly. “I’m just nervous, I guess? I mean…my place isn’t really…welcoming.”

“That is because you have not taken the time to make it a home. It feels impersonal, even to you.”

“Yeah,” Anders sighed, turning the phone over in his hands. “But it’s kind of too late now. I told Garrett I would pick him up right after we land.”

“He will be happy to see it, regardless. It’s _yours_ , Anders. Judging by the little bit I have seen of the man, you could take him to a box and he would be thrilled.”

“I did tell him I lived in a sewer,” Anders grinned, relaxing somewhat. “I think he was legitimately confused.”

Kristoff chuckled softly. “I don’t think you give him enough credit.”

Anders’ smiled again, eyebrows quirking up. “No, sometimes he’s just very…literal. And trusting, I guess.”

His smile fell at the last words, and he turned the phone back over, glancing at the black screen. Kristoff could sense the mood dropping once more.

“Hawke is a good man, you needn’t worry.”

“ _Garrett_ ,” Anders corrected immediately, scowling in his direction. Kristoff grinned, Anders huffing once he realized it had been done on purpose.

“And he _is_ a good man. Like I said, he’s very trusting. Sometimes I wonder why he trusts _me_.”

“Because he knows you truly care for him,” Kristoff argued. “He does not seem the type to surround himself with people he does not genuinely care for, and who don’t care for him in return. If nothing else, he is a good judge of character.”

“You almost sound like you’re defending him over me,” Anders snorted, a small smile appearing.

Kristoff nodded. “Sometimes you need some sense knocked into you. You become blinded by your emotions.”

Anders grimaced but said nothing. He still appeared somewhat nervous, and something clicked in Kristoff’s head.

“I know what will help.”

“What?” Anders looked hopefully in his direction.

“I will stop by for dinner.” Kristoff nodded firmly, confident in his act of support, even as Anders’ eyes widened in alarm.

“No!” he yelped. A few of the other players glanced in their direction but paid them no more mind.

“No,” Anders repeated. “Kristoff, what are you _thinking_? That’ll only make me more nervous!”

“Nonsense,” Kristoff waved it off. “You will get settled with Garrett, order some food, and I will join you for dinner. I would like to speak with him again, anyway.”

“About what!” Anders cried. “You’re going to freak him out!”

“I am not that intimidating.”

“He’s _terrified_ of you!”

Kristoff frowned. He hadn’t thought he had made that strong of an impression.

“Why?”

Anders just stared at him incredulously for a few seconds before shaking his head.

“Because literally _everybody_ is scared of you?”

“You are not,” Kristoff countered.

Anders nodded his head fervently. “Yes, right now I’m terrified by your awful plan!”

“I think it will be good for me to get to know him,” Kristoff replied, sidestepping the comment. “I would like to talk to him in a friendly setting.”

Ander sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“And you said you… _spoke_ to him?” Kristoff added, the words left unsaid clear in the air. Anders froze, nodding stiffly before looking away.

“I am sorry,” Kristoff murmured. “I just wanted to be sure.”

“Don’t bring it up,” Anders snapped, turning back to him. “He’s still processing. I’d really like for this night to go as smoothly as possible if you’re _insisting_ on being there.”

Part of him secretly suspected that Anders was glad for the offer – or, well, decision – to come over, even if he would never admit it. But he also knew that the more Anders was pressed, the more he would withdraw into himself, which would lead to a monumental explosion if he kept things too pent up.

“Have you given any more thought about adopting a cat?” Kristoff asked, hoping the change of subject might lighten his mood and distract him simultaneously.

Anders sighed sadly, shaking his head.

“I just don’t know if I should, you know?” he lamented. “With our schedules and stuff…I think I would feel too bad leaving it alone all the time. I’d really love a cat, though. Or five. Maybe 12…”

“Twelve cats may be slightly excessive, Anders.”

Anders stopped, squinting his eyes a little before he smirked, letting out a little huff of laughter.

“I sound like Garrett.”

“Does Garrett have many cats?”

At that, Anders actually burst into laughter, shaking his head.

“No, he has one very, _very_ large and ferocious dog but he’d be over the moon if he could have about 15 more. And maybe a dragon or two thrown in.”

Kristoff chuckled, nodding his head. “You two sound like you were meant to be.”

Anders’ smile faltered, although he tried his best to keep it steady. Kristoff knew without speaking that he was thinking of Karl, which was one of the _last_ things he was trying to do.

“Take out your phone, Anders,” Kristoff requested. Anders frowned in confusion but showed him the phone in his hand.

“May I borrow it for a few seconds?”

“What are you going to do with it? You have your own phone.”

“Please trust me, Anders.

Anders sighed and relented, handing over the device. Kristoff had it for about three minutes before he handed it back, proud smile on his face.

“Oo-kaay,” Anders said, staring at his friend’s face. “What did you break?”

“I broke nothing. Look at the new icon on your screen.”

Anders glanced down, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. Until he spotted a new app, sitting at the top right side of the screen.

“What is, uh…neck-o at-some-e?”

“ _Neko Atsume_ ,” Kristoff corrected. “And the icon should give you an indication.”

“Since when did you become so trendy?” Anders chuckled, tapping the screen. His eyes lit up a second later, gasping quietly in delight.

“What _is_ this?” he whispered in awe.

“You collect cats,” Kristoff explained, unable to stop the warm smile on his own face at his friend’s delight. “You must leave them food and toys and they will visit you.”

Anders began wildly tapping through the menus, letting out coos of happiness every so often at an especially cute toy.

“You _play_ this?” he asked after a while, looking at Kristoff in surprise.

“No,” the other man replied, shaking his head with a grin. “But I saw it the other day and thought you might enjoy it. Until you have a real cat, of course.”

Anders laughed, not bothering to deny it, before giving his friend a fond smile.

“This still doesn’t make up for crashing my dinner.”

* * *

True to his word, Kristoff arrived about 45 minutes after Anders had returned to his apartment, Garrett in tow. One look at Garrett’s face and he could see that Anders hadn’t been lying about his boyfriend’s terror.

“Hello again, Mr. Hawke.”

The poor man’s eyes were nearly bulging out of his head as he tried to think of a simple response, and Kristoff would have felt bad for him if he didn’t look so comical. He heard Anders snicker quietly off to the side, so at least he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“Hi, um…again,” Garrett stuttered, abruptly placing down the bowl in his hand harder than necessary. Kristoff still had absolutely no idea why his very presence seemed to terrify the man. After their last conversation in the bakery, he could understand a little trepidation. But they were on the same side, and things had turned out well. There was no reason for Garrett to be nervous.

“I was happy to hear that you and Anders spoke after our last meeting,” he replied, trying to assuage his fears. It didn’t appear to work, Garrett still staring like a deer in headlights as he blurt out a “yeah” and nothing else. Thankfully, Anders was willing to save his boyfriend.

“When Justice heard we were getting together tonight, he asked if he could join us.”

He punctuated the statement with a slap on the back, much harder than necessary, causing Kristoff to jolt forward. He knew Anders was still slightly annoyed by his intrusion, and it was only the flicker of surprise on Garrett’s face that made him bite his tongue. He didn't know how much Anders had told the other man and he didn't want to accidentally unfurl any explanations.

Unfortunately for Garrett, Anders left the room to gather the rest of the food, leaving the two of them together. Garrett quickly took a seat at the table, Kristoff choosing the spot directly across from him. He wanted to be able to see both Garrett and Anders’ reactions during the meal but knew Garrett would be much more comfortable with his boyfriend by his side.

That didn’t, however, mean they couldn’t have a private chat.

“Do you prefer Hawke or Garrett?”

Garrett must have zoned out, because he nearly jumped out of his seat at the words, staring again with wide-eyed terror. Kristoff squinted his eyes, nearly exasperated already at the other man’s nerves. What did he _really_ expect was going to happen this evening?

The next hour passed quickly, Anders and Kristoff sharing stories and jokes, trying to draw Garrett into the conversation whenever possible. Anders had a constant nervous energy about him the entire night, in parts delighted at having his boyfriend and best friend together in a casual atmosphere but also a desperate need to make sure Garrett was comfortable with the impromptu situation.

Garrett, for his part, relaxed slightly as the evening went on, although never completely. Kristoff spent more time than he suspected either of the other men realized gauging Garrett’s reactions and overall demeanor. The man was tense, but not in a negative sense. _He_ wanted the evening to work out almost as much as Anders did.

Kristoff felt his heart warm when he realized just how much Garrett wanted Anders to be happy. It radiated from every pore, a desire to see this man he cared about so much just enjoy a normal evening.

There was still a tentativeness about him that Kristoff couldn’t place, however. But watching the pair interact more, he could see it for what it was: Garrett knew Anders was not stable in their relationship. At least, not to the point where he wanted them to be. They were still on uncertain ground, both trying to adjust and heal.

Kristoff respected Garrett already, but now he found he genuinely liked him, as well.

Which, perhaps, led to a lapse in judgment over dessert.

Anders left to grab ice cream from the kitchen, which Kristoff took as his last chance to speak to Garrett privately. He wanted to ask the one question that had been burning in his mind ever since the pair had gotten back together.

“How is Anders behaving?”

It was a loaded question with many layers, Kristoff knew, but he was curious how Garrett would respond. It must have confused him because he looked away with a furrowed brow, and Kristoff could almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Um…good, I guess?” Garrett responded. “Our talk was…good.”

Kristoff nodded, slightly disappointed but not wholly unsurprised by the answer. Perhaps something more neutral, then.

“He looks much better this evening,” Kristoff continued. “Every time he looks at you his face lights up.”

Garrett’s face does the same before turning a light shade of pink, a small smile gracing his lips. Kristoff almost feels bad for asking the next question, but he had to be sure.

“And you know about Karl.”

The question hit Garrett like a punch to the gut. He could see the man visibly recoil, eyes wide as he struggled to come up with an answer. The reaction alone was enough of one, and Kristoff knew no matter what answer Garrett gave, he wouldn’t push for more.

Anders took that opportunity to reappear, happy smile immediately disappearing once he caught sight of his boyfriend’s large frame curled in on himself at the table. Anders’ eyes immediately went to Kristoff, even though the question was directed at them both.

“What are you guys talking about?”

Garrett wouldn’t even look over, nervously biting his lip, but Kristoff stared back, almost challenging his friend.

“Karl.”

Anders nearly slammed the containers and bowls down on the table, leaning over to level a glare in Kristoff’s direction.

“We _talked_ about this,” he hissed.

Kristoff nodded, remembering their earlier conversation – and Anders’ subsequent reaction – on the plane, but he also didn’t want to keep dancing around the subject.

“And now I am talking to Garrett about it,” he replied calmly.

He could feel the tension radiating off of both men, Anders nearly ready to erupt, but it was Garrett who diffused the situation by snatching a container of ice cream and shoveling a spoonful into his mouth. Anders was taken aback, staring at his boyfriend in surprised amusement. Kristoff felt a pang of regret and decided that the conversation could be held at another time. Right now, making sure the pair had a successful dinner was more important.

Kristoff reached out and grabbed another one of the containers, following Garrett’s example and eating a scoop directly. It’s enough that Anders cracked, chuckling at the scene before taking the last container for himself.

Garrett took a chance and snuck an appreciative look at Kristoff over his spoon, fast enough that he doubted Anders saw. Kristoff nodded his head, eyes crinkling in amusement, and it was at that moment that he felt things shift.

They were on the same side here, and maybe all it took was a few cartons of ice cream for it to hit home.

* * *

Kristoff decided to leave immediately following dessert, despite neither Anders nor Garrett giving any inclination that they wanted him gone. Even Garrett seemed to have settled somewhat during dessert, but Kristoff didn’t want to overstay his welcome.

They both walked him to the door as he prepared to leave, Garrett shuffling behind like he wasn’t sure what he should do. Kristoff wanted to give him some kind of reassuring words, to let him know that Anders just needed _time,_ and the best he could do is exactly what he’s doing.

He settled instead for a handshake, hoping the intense stare he projected would do the talking for him instead. Judging by the solemn, yet somewhat confused, look Garrett returned, he doubted it.

Anders, however, seemed to read his mind, holding up a finger for Garrett to wait as he followed Kristoff into the hall. Anders turned to him once the door was shut, shoving his hands in his pockets and giving his friend a bashful grin. Kristoff smiled softly in return, content to let his friend speak first.

“So, um…” Anders began. “What do you think?” He gestured toward the apartment with his head.

“About what, in particular?”

Anders flushed, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he tried to find the words.

“About…us, I guess,” he finally said. “Garrett. What kind of vibe did you get from him?”

Kristoff chuckled, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder and giving it a brief squeeze.

“I think you have nothing to worry about.”

Anders’ relief was obvious, the man visibly relaxing as he grinned.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Kristoff confirmed with a nod. “Your entire being lights up when you look at him, and he looks at you as if you hung the moon.”

Anders scoffed, looking at the floor, but his grin spread even wider and it was obvious he was pleased with the observation.

“However,” Kristoff continued, almost regretting his words when Anders’ eyes shot back up to his in alarm.

“He is hesitant, Anders.”

“About what?” Anders demanded. “I’ve explained everything to him, I didn’t hold back.”

“I understand that. I just believe he is…frightened.”

“About _what?_ ”

Kristoff paused, running a hand over his short hair before continuing.

“Every once in a while, I would catch him looking at you when you were looking away. He was hopeful, yet cautious. I believe he is afraid he will do something that will cause you to react again.”

“But it wasn’t his fault, I _told_ him that!” Anders burst out. “He’s the last person I’d get angry at!”

Kristoff raised an eyebrow, saying no more, and Anders quickly deflated.

“I’ll talk to him,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“It will take time,” Kristoff gently replied. “He’s building back his trust. You can’t fault him for that.”

“I don’t fault him for anything. He did nothing wrong.”

“Tell him that.” Kristoff smiled. “Or better yet, show him. Let him know he is appreciated and you care.”

“I thought I was,” Anders sighed. “But you’re right. He deserves it.”

“You will be fine, my friend,” Kristoff replied. He reached out, pulling Anders into a quick embrace before smiling again.

“Now get back in there before he starts to panic.”

Anders gave him one more quick smile before returning to his apartment, leaving Kristoff alone in the hallway.

He walked to his car feeling lighter than when he had arrived, confident that his friend – no, make that _friends_ – would be okay.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, but really, can we talk about Idris "Sexiest Man of the Year" Elba, cause I'm so impressed the magazine finally got it right for once. 
> 
> Now that NaNo is done (I did not even come close to winning lmao) I can focus on my fics again and it would be a total lie to say that I wasn't thinking about this universe the entire month. I hope you all enjoyed and again, anything else you'd like to learn about Justice, just let me know! I have a couple more ideas for this series floating around but I'm always open to more. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, you're all the best <33

**Author's Note:**

> My blinding love for Justice has finally spilled over into its own fic series because I couldn't stand it any longer. Tbh I could probably write about him just staring at a wall for 20 pages and be happy (but I'll spare you). 
> 
> If you've read In the Books I'm sure you noticed a lot of parallels here. 
> 
> Anything else you want to see with Justice? I have a couple of ideas but I'd love to hear what you'd all like to see as well! Just drop me a line :) [tumblr](http://draco-illius-noctis.tumblr.com/)


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